It’s Blue.

Nothing is more frustrating than being blue, through and through, and having someone who doesn’t even know you or your hue try to tell you that you’re red.

Red, red, red, and they’ll shout it over you a thousand times again. As if you weren’t an expert on your own life, feelings, and experiences, this third party painter tries to paint you as a picture of the sunset and strawberries.

But you’re the ocean. You’re the sky. You’re two bluejays cuddled up against the backdrop of indigo bushes and blackberries. You can tell them until you’re blue in the face. And even that won’t be enough to convince them. As if you had to convince them. As if you owed them an explanation. As if your life has to be validated and approved by them first.

Then some fool comes around from the other side and says, “Nah, that’s yellow. Don’t you see it?” and it starts all over again.

Grumpy Gabu

The life I lived up until this point was simply unsatisfactory. I'm starting over new, tearing out everything right down to the foundation. There's not a whole lot about me to know. I'm 24, I'm a homemaker, I'm trying my damnedest to make things work between the regular panic attacks and mental breakdowns. I'm getting better.
My formula is simple: Any entries titled with the date are just boring updates, and can be overlooked. Titled entries have at least one or two things worth reading, if you'd care enough to.